


when you're called

by majoramort



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Cock Warming, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, F/M, Mentions of alcohol, Naked Female Clothed Male, No use of y/n, Riding, Smut, brief exhibition kink, mentions of choking but not really any, post season two of the mandalorian, princess kink, yeah this is like very dirty and shameless smut im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28470648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majoramort/pseuds/majoramort
Summary: If you're going to act like a princess, you might as well sit on a throne.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 193





	when you're called

**Author's Note:**

> i was originally not planning on writing this but i sat down three hours ago and now here we are. please heed the tags, i kind of came unhinged. 
> 
> enjoy :)

The sands of Tatooine stir slightly in the night breeze. 

You’ve been out here for hours, looking out across the Dune Sea. The business of a crime syndicate isn’t really something that’s ever interested you, so you often find yourself sitting by the cliffside outside the palace. It almost makes you wish there was more to do on this planet– something other than stare into the setting suns until you feel your eyes burn– but you wouldn’t dare go anywhere else. 

A chill creeps in and you wrap your cloak tighter around your body. The desert may be scorching hot by day, but it can get freezing at night. This far out, there’s zero light pollution and the stars gleam brightly in the sky. Waiting for the patrons to leave, you draw pictures in the constellations and try to guess which planets are which. It doesn’t usually take this long for things to wrap up, but no two days are ever the same. A beeping of your name from behind you breaks you out of your reverie. 

“Master Fett requests your presence inside. It is too dangerous for you to remain out.” The silver protocol droid stands a few feet away, its eyes glowing white and arms bent by its sides. Of course. Of _course_ he would send a droid after you. You know it means he’s not done with the day’s business yet, and you sigh thinking of how busy he’s become. 

“Please tell _Master Fett_ that I’m perfectly fine where I am,” you respond, turning back to the expanses of sand. You hear the droid hesitate for a moment, taking in the information before quietly turning back to descend the stairs into the building. You sniff pointedly. You’ve been out here this late _plenty_ of times, so you really don’t know what he’s on about. Unless he’s finally snapped or there’s some random mystery threat you don’t know about, you’re fairly certain that you’re fine right where you are. 

The silence lasts for a few more minutes and you listen to the sounds of your breath mixing with the wind. You guess you could theoretically go inside and be fine. A warm bath in your large tub sounds absolutely delightful right now, but something in you won’t let you do it. The nagging feeling in the back of your mind is probably the product of being _requested_ inside for your safety. 

As if you can’t handle yourself. 

“Master Fett requests your presence inside.” The same protocol droid reappears behind you and you practically jump straight up in the air at the surprise, but you readjust quickly. 

“I thought I told you to tell him I was fine,” you start, barely even looking back at the droid. “If he wants me inside so bad, he can come get me himself.” The droid whirs for a moment. 

“Master Fett wishes to inform you that you will not like the consequences if he has to ask a third time.”

You practically choke. He said that to a _droid?_ He must have, unless your ears are deceiving you. You aren’t sure what his problem is tonight, but unfortunately, he’s right. You probably won’t like the consequences of him asking a third time… 

The thought turns over in your head a few times before you make up your mind. You don’t want to push your luck too far, especially not if he’s in a mood like this. Besides, there are other ways to get to him, to mess with him. You raise up from where you stand and head inside, the droid teetering in behind you. 

You descend the stairs into the main rotunda before stopping in your tracks. You’re inside now, so you’ve _obeyed_ his orders. But that’s where they stopped– he didn’t tell you what to do once you’re inside. Usually, you’ll go back to your chambers after a day out, but tonight you have other plans. 

The clinking of glasses and chatter of various species reverberates from the stairwell to the throne room. You follow the sounds down, trailing one hand down the wall as you creep through the back. There are still quite a few people milling around, probably celebrating whatever deal they struck this evening. You slip through unseen towards the back, directly across from the throne but still hidden by the crowd. 

You plop up onto a table, grabbing a random bottle of something fizzing and purple. Leaning back, you pop the cork and take a swig. It doesn’t burn as it goes down, which is a welcome surprise. Looking at the label, you realize you’ve grabbed… 

Sparkling jogan fruit juice? Yeah, you’ve never even heard of that. Well. It’s good, so there’s no harm done. 

You sit on your perch for a little longer, watching as the protocol droid finally makes its way up to the throne. You can just barely see Boba turn towards it, still wearing that green helmet. The droid hunches in closer and you can’t hear what’s being said, but you can imagine. Another sip slides down your throat as the crowd briefly pulls apart long enough for you to be spotted, the black visor training in on you. 

Raising a hand, you smirk and wave a little _hello_ with your fingers, reclining back against the wall and taking another swig of your fruit juice. Boba’s head tilts ever so slightly, and you sense that your fun is only beginning tonight. 

You almost _never_ come down here. You hate listening to criminals and bounty hunters plead with him, the stifling heat from being underground and _still_ having that fireplace going. Boba obliges you and never forces you to come here, so your presence right now definitely sends a message. 

You have to admit, you kind of wish you did venture down here more often. Sitting back on that throne… he looks torturously powerful. But no. You’re not going to let that distract you from the stunt with the droid.

Boba holds up a gloved hand and the music suddenly fizzles out. The smirk stays on your face as the small crowd bumbles slightly, confusion spreading through. 

“You’re all dismissed,” a gruff voice rings out suddenly from behind a modulator. Well, if he insists. You hop down from the table, setting the bottle down and making off towards the stairs, before– “Not you.”

Oops.

You stop in your tracks, turning back to face him as people filter out around you, only sneaking glances at you to see who’s being spoken to. No one lingers, not when Boba’s tone is like… _that._ The room empties and only the two of you remain, him on the throne and pulling his helmet off and you halfway to the exit with your arms crossed. 

He places the helmet down to the side gently and with so much restraint that you almost gulp. Rolling his neck a few times, he turns back to you, his face unreadable. 

“So, I have a curfew now?” you ask without breaking eye contact. Boba’s expression narrows at you, thinking over his next move. You know you’re poking at a sleeping sand bear, but you just can’t help it. 

“Is this how you want to be tonight?” he says calmly, his voice holding no inflection. 

“Yes, this is how I want to be tonight,” you say, unable to hold back an eye roll. 

Boba doesn’t move, doesn’t stand, and barely changes his posture. The only thing he does is pull his gloves off, dropping them down next to his helmet and running his hands over his legs. He settles back against the seat, letting his head rest against it. 

“Come up here.” He says it simply, but you hear the challenge behind it. You both know that you aren’t _really_ mad about the curfew, only slightly annoyed. You’ll get over it, and based on how many people were here tonight, he was probably just worried that something would happen to you while he wasn’t looking. So you have two options: keep pushing and make this the second time tonight he’s had to ask for something twice, or go along with it and see what kind of reward you could get out of him. 

But apparently, you take too long with your decision. 

“Sometime tonight, sweetheart. Or do you not come when you're called anymore?” he rasps, and you feel the words shoot straight down to your core. Your feet move of their own accord, sauntering up the few steps to the platform. He follows you with his gaze the whole time as you approach him, and you stop a few feet in front of him. 

“I’m here,” you say sweetly. 

“Good,” he responds. “Have a seat.” 

“Where?” you ask, eyebrows raised. There isn’t exactly anywhere to sit up here, unless… No. He can’t mean– But you know he does, from the way his lips quirk at you. “You can’t be serious.” 

“If you’re going to act like a _princess_ , you might as well sit on a throne.” Your eyes couldn’t be wider, but you secretly scream at the idea of sitting on his lap in the throne room. 

“O-Okay,” you mutter, unhooking your cloak and letting it drop to the ground. Underneath, you wear nothing but a pair of loose pants and a shirt suited to the arid climate. You scoot in small steps in front of him and he waits patiently, arms braced on the rests as you lower yourself to sit on his thighs. 

Two strong hands come to rest on your waist, running up and down your sides. 

“There, isn’t that better?” Boba asks, his large hands coming to rest under your breasts. Surely by now he’s realized that you never put on a bra this morning. You only respond with an _mmhmm_ as his beskar chest plates dig into your back. He _tsks_ at you, angling to speak lowly into your ear. “No princess, use your words. Isn’t that better?” he repeats. 

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe. The energy in the room immediately shifts. It was already rich and heavy, as is the natural state in a residence that holds so much power, but as the events begin to unfold, you feel your chest tighten. You’ve only ever said these words to him in the privacy of his ship or your quarters, and hearing them echo out against the sandstone walls is… It’s wildly erotic. 

“Good girl,” he grunts, readjusting you on his lap. The only real comfortable way for you to sit is with your legs on either side of his, which ends up spreading you wide to the empty chamber. You close your eyes and try not to writhe around too much as his hands wrack across your body, lighting pulling up at the edges of your shirt. Boba’s face presses into the side of your neck. “Do you want to take this somewhere else?” 

“No,” you answer almost immediately. He lets out a low groan as you subconsciously lift your hips up and back down again, pressing back into him. 

“You want to get fucked right here?” he asks, fingertips dancing at the waistband of your pants. It’s all you can do to let out a high whine as, yes, he _now_ realizes that you didn’t put on underwear today, either. “Naughty little one,” he scolds. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. A thick finger slides down to find its way into your slit, not wasting any time before dragging through to collect your wetness. The calloused tip comes up and out of your pants, nudging your clit slightly and causing your hips to buck. 

“Suck, princess,” he orders as two fingers push at your lips. You open almost immediately, taking them into your mouth. The taste of your arousal floods your mouth as you swirl your tongue around, your head lying back against his shoulder and exposing more of your neck for him to press kisses into. 

The fingers are suddenly pulled from your mouth with a pop, and his hand is shoving back down into your pants before you can even register it. Another one of his hands reaches up into your shirt and wraps around a breast, tweaking at a nipple. Your chest heaves in the smoky air of the room as your clit practically throbs to be touched again. 

He bypasses it entirely though, shocking you by plunging two fingers deep into you. Your gasp bounds through the room and Boba holds you back down, shushing you softly. He knows exactly what you want, but you’ll have to be good if you want to get it. 

Your pussy clenches around his fingers as he rocks them into you, reaching deeper and deeper on each thrust. In his lap, you’re already a moaning and liquid mess. 

“You like this, little one?” he asks, and you nod furiously. “You always have such an _attitude_ until I get my hands on you.” 

He isn’t… wrong. You flush at the wet noises coming from your own body as he adds a third finger, bending his knuckles in a way that makes you feel every intricate part of him inside you. There’s no real explanation for how you’re already this wet. There just isn’t.

“Please,” you gasp. “Pleaaase.” He feels so good, but you want more. Impossibly more. His cock presses up against the fabric of his pants, straining to get closer to you. With a sudden burst of confidence, you grind down on him. It pulls you further away from his fingers, but closer to the part of him that you truly want. 

His fingers rip away from you, taking away the sweet, sweet fullness you’re craving. 

“Take everything off,” he growls into your ear. It seems your message got through perfectly clear. 

“Everything?” you squeak. To be completely exposed here…

“No one will interrupt us, princess,” he assures you, already lifting your shirt up over your head. Most of your body has gone limp with need by now, but you manage to toe your shoes off, and Boba helps you slide your pants down. 

For once, you’re incredibly thankful for the warmth of the palace. Every inch of your skin is bare and he seems intent on exploring all of it, even as he lifts your hips again to ease his cock out. You settle back down onto him and the hard length comes to rest against the seam of your cunt. 

“I think we should take this _slow,”_ Boba rasps, his hands finding a new position to hold your thighs open. “Since you wanted to take _your_ time coming inside, I can take _my_ time coming inside.” 

Oh. Oh, stars above. 

“You’re still on that?” you whine before you can decide any better. Teeth lightly graze against the skin of your shoulder, and a strong hand wraps around your neck. He doesn’t squeeze– and you can breathe perfectly fine except for how you’re hyperventilating from arousal– but the sheer presence of it speaks volumes. You think you can _feel_ your wetness trickling down onto him. 

“I am,” he hisses, angling you so that just the head of his cock is able to poke inside of you. “But I’ll let you off easier this time if you think you can take all of this.” He grinds his hips up for emphasis. 

“Yes, yesyes please,” you moan at the tantalizing push of him deeper inside of you. “I’ll take it all, daddy, I swear.” You whisper it into his skin, pressing kisses against his scarred cheek. He indulges you, letting you sink further down onto him. 

It takes a minute, and your muscles burn from having to keep you up. Boba’s cock is both a blessing and a curse, in that the size of it always feels _so_ damn good, but that you have to be able to take it first. He helps you through it by massaging your clit with one hand, the other never moving from where it rests around your throat. 

Your eyes roll back into your head at the stretch– it’s always almost too much to take. But you’re determined. 

“Close that mouth unless you want me to fill it, princess.” Your lips snap shut– you didn’t even know it was open. As much as the idea of being filled everywhere excites you, you just don’t know how much more you can take right now. With one last roll of your hips, you find yourself completely seated down on him, your chest heaving. 

You give yourself a moment to catch up and relax. 

“Tired?” he asks. Normally you’ll find yourself being a lot more talkative than this, but for some reason sitting on his cock while he sits on his throne makes you shy. Because that makes sense. You shake your head a little bit, but it’s lazy and you can’t find the energy to back it up as your walls twitch and spasm against him. Your hands grasp at the armrests, trying to find something to hold onto when he ever-so-slightly lifts up. 

“Don’t lie to me, little one.” His tone has an edge to it, but he grabs your hips and starts thrusting up anyway. You internally preen at it. For as much of a tough-guy exterior as he likes to put up, he can never resist you, either. He’d probably never admit it, but you take pride in knowing that you can get one of the fiercest bounty hunters in the galaxy drunk off the feeling of your pussy.

“I should take you like this all the time,” he starts to ramble, snapping up against you. He hit the deepest parts of you, the parts that practically make you scream out. “You get free reign of this whole place while I’m stuck down here all day. Isn’t fair, little one. I should keep you down here to keep my cock warm.” You know you’re going to feel his fingerprints on your sides for days.

The crackle of the fire and the sounds of his balls slapping against your skin mingle in the throne room, and you can see the picture that he’s painting for you in your mind. You’d be here just like this, spread out for him and whoever’s standing before him on that day. Everyone would be able to hear you crying for your daddy, could marvel before his thick cock like you do. 

“I’ll think about it,” you sputter out. Your vision practically goes white as he fucks you raw. Everything is sensitive, and every pass of his fingertip against your clit makes your legs jolt. He practically has you bouncing up and down on him and tears begin to well in your eyes at every little touch. “Please, please don’t stop.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, princess,” he responds, groaning your name. 

Your core pulls and pulls until something breaks and a sudden flood washes out of you. This time you _can_ feel your wetness gushing down as Boba whispers into your ear to tell you _how good you’re making daddy feel_. You can barely even feel it as he fucks you through to his own orgasm. 

When you come down, you have two armored arms wrapped around your body. His lips kiss down your jawline, gently bringing you back to reality. There’s an unspoken agreement here that had developed between the two of you– somewhere in your relationship where things had taken a turn from just sex to something more. Something where he’s let himself open up enough to hold you afterward, to embrace you through the aftershocks. 

“Thank you,” you say, practically delirious. Boba shifts his hips gently, and you both exhale as your combined orgasms leak out. 

“Anytime,” he responds, his forehead pressing into your temple. Neither of you has moved– neither of you wants to move. 

In the back of your consciousness, you can feel that warm bath you were thinking about earlier calling to you, which is probably not the best timing considering that you can still barely move your legs. 

“I just want to stay like this a little longer,” you say, reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. You want to enjoy this softer side of him, even if for a few minutes before you consider getting up again. 

“Not a worry, princess.” Boba turns your face towards him, pressing a deep kiss into your mouth. “We have nowhere to be.”

**Author's Note:**

> :)
> 
> come talk to me on my [tumblr](https://sunsetkenobi.tumblr.com) or in the comments!


End file.
